


Connection

by hamstercheese7



Category: One Piece
Genre: Dancing, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Feelings, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Music, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26312782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamstercheese7/pseuds/hamstercheese7
Summary: Law has been hanging around the islands close to the entrance to the New World, and Smoker is determined to find out why.One-shot based on the prompt Weakness.
Relationships: Smoker/Trafalgar D. Water Law
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	Connection

The music was loud, pounding, the very walls of the ship shaking with it. Lights flashed, neon streaks of color under the harsh blacklights. The stench of people, alcohol, and the salt of the ocean bombarded his nose. 

Not the kind of place most people would think to find The Surgeon of Death. 

‘Not the kind of place most people would think to find “The White Hunter” either’, Smoker thought with a snort.

Yet here he was, off duty. He walked slowly through the crowd, keeping to the edges. The Ocean Cruise Liner known as “Flash Break” was one of those weird places in the New World, not that that was saying much, but what made this one weird was that the sole purpose of it was for music and dance. No one knew who the owner, or owners were, but it was a neutral place for pirates, marines, underworld brokers, civilians, etc. to meet. 

Bodies writhed together under the bright lights in the middle of the largest dance floor in the middle of the ship. There must have been hundreds of people, but then again it was always crowded on a Friday night. Pirates may not care much for schedules, but they always seemed to show up in bigger numbers at the end of the week, just like everyone else. 

Smoker sighed, he needed a higher vantage point. He turned away from the floor, walking towards the stairs in the back. It was a little inconvenient that the place was built of so much sea prism stone, though he supposed that helped keep the Golden Rule. No fighting. If you got in a fight on the Flash Break, you wouldn’t last long, and if you lived to talk about it, your reputation never recovered. 

He tried to ignore the booths filled with pirates, underworld brokers, even a few Marines and World Government agents as he passed up the stairs to the next floor. Here was the ideal meeting place to make deals and trades, he didn’t even want to know how much money this place took in as part of each deal. 

It was his night off, he should try to enjoy it. 

The second floor was crowded too, couples, triplets, and god knew what else congregated around narrow tables, drinking and laughing. The air was a little cooler up here, the open air letting in the ocean breeze. Still reeked of booze though. He forced himself through a few idiots to the railing, looking down at the dance floor, eyes searching. 

He knew he was here, he’d seen his submarine anchored alongside the ship. It wasn’t rare for Law to be here, and from what Smoker had seen in reports passing in and out of his inbox, he’d been sighted in this area of the New World quite often as of late. An odd thing, as Law, more than even Mugiwara preferred to wander.

But what really bothered Smoker was that Law hadn’t said anything to him about being in the area. The two of them had been on and off for years at this point, he made a face (had it really been that long?), but for Law to be spending this much time in Smoker’s patrol zone without coming by even to antagonize him sent up warning signals. Something was up, and he was going to find out what.

His amber eyes zigzagged across the floor below him, the bright flashes of colorful hair, glinting jewelry, and complicated fashion choices made a dizzying vision, but he knew he would recognize him when he saw him. He always did.

And after a while, he was right.

\---

The rush of bodies moving in time to the thundering base, the floor vibrating so hard he could feel it through his chest, the feel of others pressing up against him always made Law feel alive. A totally different thrill than fighting, and totally different from the feeling of holding someone’s life in his hands on his operating table. 

In both those instances, he was wholly aware of himself. Aware of Kikoku in his hands, the ground under his feet, each slice, each punch, each step. Aware of the pounding of blood through veins, of how sure his hands needed to be when sewing shut wounds, of setting broken bones. In those moments, he was deep within himself, the outside world didn’t exist.

But here, on the dance floor, he was able to achieve what he could nowhere else. Be outside of his head. He didn’t know if it was the music, the lights, the proximity of strangers, or a combination of all three, but here, he could finally think clearly. Despite the sheer volume of sound around him, somehow the world went quiet. 

Here there was only his voice in his head, and nothing else.

And that was what he needed at the moment. The clarity. For quite some time now, he’d felt restless. The kind of restless he hadn’t felt for a very long time, not since Mugiwara had claimed the title of Pirate King, not since he’d begun sailing each sea in search of what it meant to live. 

For a long time, he had felt at peace with that, just living. But lately...lately he wanted something else. He’d seen hundreds of islands, walked thousands of streets, fought in many battles, and gotten trashed in more bars than he could count. He’d seen sunken cities on the ocean floor, explored ancient sweltering jungles, climbed frozen glaciers, seen sky islands (which getting to in a submarine was no easy feat!), and yet… they all lacked something now. 

As he moved against the people around him, it hit him. Connection. 

His crew was his life but… Bepo had returned to Zou a few years prior to start a family, and Penguin and Sachi were busy too. They had begun a submarine building business and it was finally taking off. He was happy for them but… it didn’t make him feel less alone. He missed that connection, and if he was honest with himself, he was a little jealous of his crewmates' new endeavors, of being part of creating something new.

So he’d begun wandering around the places he felt the most connection to, which was...well, close to the G-5, near the entrance to the New World. Smoker, while an Admiral now, still stayed in this area and worked out of the G-5 Base. The idiot had some kind of sentimental attachment to the place (and to Tashigi, who was now Base Commander), just like he did. 

After the Great War, the seas had calmed in some ways as nations adjusted to a Navy that was no longer controlled by the World Government, and a World Government no longer controlled by the Celestial Dragons. But pirates still abounded, port towns still got raided, diseases still ran rampant through communities. The world changed in some ways (for the better for once), but was still the same.

It was as he stopped at one of the smaller islands in the area, that he realized what he wanted. He’d been sitting in a quiet bar, when a man had rushed in looking for help. Apparently a shanty farther in town had collapsed and there were injured. More out of curiosity than anything, Law had followed the crowd to the scene of destruction. There were injured men and women everywhere, and as he’d stood there, he realized, this poorer-than-shit island, had no doctors. 

Since then, he’d been wandering the small archipelago, helping the sick. He wasn’t sure why he felt compelled to do so, but...well. It gave him connection to something.

The song reached its crescendo at the same time as someone new came up behind him. Law sensed their movements more than he saw them, the lights flashing and pulsing above them, but he knew the shape of those shoulders. He leaned back, startling his new partner, slipping his hands behind the man’s neck. After a moment, familiar hands settled onto his hips and they swayed with the pounding beat.

He’d known that Smoker would find him eventually. 

This wasn’t Smoker’s preferred scene, the man hated the loudness of the music, the closeness of strangers, the pulsing lights and of course, the sheer presence of pirates he couldn’t arrest. But he was here anyway. A warmth settled in Law’s chest. 

Connection.

The song came to an end, the music fading out to be replaced by the DJ saying something unintelligible over the sound of the crowd and the ringing in Law’s ears. He turned around slowly, a small grin on his face as their eyes met. Smoker stared down at him, and Law recognized the look in his eyes. The “I came here to talk to you” look, which was just slightly different than the “I came here to fight you” or the “I came here to get drunk with you” look. It was funny that he could tell the differences between them, but he supposed at this point he’d had years of practice. 

Smoker jerked his head to the side, motioning for Law to follow him off the dance floor as the next song started. Law was about to but stopped mid-step. This song was not the same pulsing, hounding, animalistic beat as the last set. No, no, this,  **this** , was a slow song. 

There was something special about slow songs. People around them began to pair up, or double up. Strangers closing the gaps between each other, willing to be close to another if only for a few minutes. He glanced around, and made a split second decision. Instead of following Smoker off the dance floor, he held out his hand. Smoker stared at him, a thin sheen of sweat making his pale skin gleam under the blue light. 

He placed his calloused hand in Law’s own as the crowd began to move in time with the music, slow and easy, warm and intimate. He leaned his head on Smoker’s shoulder as the other leaned down to whisper in his ear, “What are you doing here, Law?” in that low baritone. The corner of Law’s lips turned up as he pulled back, allowing Smoker to lead him through a pirouette. “Dancing, Smoker-ya. It’s good to see you know how,” he commented as he matched Smoker’s steps. Smoker shot him a look, and Law chuckled. “You know what I mean, Law,” he grumbled. They swayed for another minute before Law sighed into the other’s chest as he was pulled close again. 

A woman laughed as she twirled by with her partner, the two of them smiling, their eyes meeting, the rest of the world invisible beyond their focus on one another and Law stiffened for a moment. Connection, connection to another person. To a community, a purpose. 

He suddenly knew what it was that he wanted.

He took a deep breath and looked up into Smoker’s face. “You know I have a weakness for songs like this,” he muttered. “Law would you j-” Smoker raised an eyebrow in surprise as Law interrupted him. “There’s something special about being this close with someone for a few minutes, about meeting their eyes, about the whole world shrinking down to just this...little moment…” he trailed off as Smoker tilted an eyebrow down at him, and the words stuck in Law’s throat for a moment. 

Smoker tightened his grip on Law’s hand, a motion of reassurance despite the vaguely irritated look on his face, and Law found a smile appearing on his lips. “I’ve been thinking of settling down,” he said softly. Smoker’s eyes widened, his mouth opening in surprise. “Settling down…?” he echoed. He leaned his head against Smoker’s chest, placing his arm around his neck as his larger hand slid around Law’s waist. 

“Yes, establish a medical practice...here, near the Red Line,” he murmured into the crook of Smoker’s neck. Smoker was quiet, Law’s heart beating in time with the soft swell of the music. “You’ve been avoiding me because you want to settle down here?” Smoker rumbled after a minute. Law felt heat rush across his face. “I - I didn't know how to…” he frowned, taking a deep breath as Smoker gazed at him. “I didn’t know how to ask you if you would…” he made an irritated noise in the back of his throat, “If you would want me around more often,” he finally spit out. It wasn’t elegant, or snarky, but it was honest. Smoker stopped moving, the two of them coming to a halt on the floor, other couples swirling and shifting around them. 

He pulled back from Smoker, looking into his face. His eyes ran over the old scar over his eye, then darted over the small one at the corner of his lips that he’d gotten during the War. He’d been the one to stitch that up. It seemed to take a long time for their eyes to meet. A small, gentle smile pulled at Smoker’s lips. 

“Idiot,” he muttered as he placed his hand against the side of Law’s face, and pressed his lips against his. Law wrapped his arms, around his neck, leaning into the kiss. 

The song continued on around them, and as it ended, something new for them began.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been balls deep in other writing projects but I saw that there was a SmoLaw event thing happening in Japan with the prompt "Weakness" and I was CONSUMED with the need to write this.   
> It's soft and fluffy and I am, as usual, back on my SmoLaw bullshit.
> 
> Let me know your thoughts!
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and you can find me on twitter @buggyisbest


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